


i'm a star and you're a constellation

by LittleTooStranger



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Ashtons not really there just mentioned, Bromance to Romance, Canon Compliant, M/M, Pining, Road Trips, texts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:20:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3132572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleTooStranger/pseuds/LittleTooStranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael hadn’t texted him in days. </p>
<p>It’s so foreign, being out of contact with someone you’ve known for over half your life. As if he was missing a limb, a phantom ghost of where his best friend should be stalking him. It’s dumb, because he’s just spent the better part of a year in the guy’s pocket and he can’t even take a few days away without getting all off-kilter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm a star and you're a constellation

**Author's Note:**

> So this started out as Calum being all lonely and introspective and somehow evolved into a huge fucking metaphor about stars and constellations.  
> Sorry if its kinda odd. I don’t usually give full resolution coz I’m a shit an I like ambiguity, and I haven't written in quite a while.
> 
> Kinda canon-typical. Set in the bands Christmas/New Years break when Calum and Ashton go on their road-trip with friends.
> 
> As always; characters are not my own, please don't sue me yadda yadda don't link to those who should not see; be safe have fun go wild.

They’re on break. Calum should be happy about that, should be enjoying his time away from the rush and bustle of band life; should be enjoying the road-trip with Ashton and the boys. But he’s not. He’s lonely; and isn’t that ironic, here surrounded by some of his closest friends he feels alone.

He checks his phone.

**_10:12pm 2/01/2015._ **

They’re at some last minute shitty hotel on the coast, not too far from the pub, and instead of going and getting pissed with his best mates he’s lazing around inside checking his phone like some lovesick girl. God, when did he get so lame?

It’s just – Michael hadn’t texted him in days. It’s so foreign, being out of contact with someone you’ve known for over half your life. As if he was missing a limb, a phantom ghost of where his best friend should be stalking him. It’s dumb, because he’s just spent the better part of a year in the guy’s pocket and he can’t even take a few days away without getting all off-kilter.

It’s not new, this feeling of isolation. When Calum was fourteen his parents had decided it was time for a family holiday, to get away from the busyness of Sydney for a week. Calum and begged and pleaded with is parents for days to let Michael come with them and when they had refused, spent the entire week being completely useless. He thinks this is a lot like that.

**_To: A Giant Asshole (Mikey) 10:18 pm_ **

_Do u remember when we were 14 and my parents wouldnt let you come away with us_

**_To: A Giant Asshole (Mikey) 10:19 pm_ **

_That was pretty shit._

 

He regrets sending the messages the minute he does, because it’s not what he wants to say. He decides that if he’s going to be all introspective and shit, he may as well go the full nines with it instead of sitting inside a motel room that vaguely smells of piss, and pulls on a pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt.

The night sky is beautiful this far out from the city, thousands and thousands of diamonds scattered on black velvet. They make him feel small. He always feels small. He doesn’t miss the irony, that thousands of people flock to see him and he feels small. But standing on a stage next to his band mates, he feels tiny. They are constellations and he’s a single star. It doesn’t matter how bright he shines, he pales in comparison. And when he looks at Michael it’s like looking into the sun; it hurts, but like the earth couldn’t survive without the sun, Calum couldn’t survive without Michael. It’s a weakness. He knows that with or without him, Michael would keep shining.

That’s when he knows.

He’s in love with Michael.

And god, his chests hurts with that realisation. He knows he’s always loved Michael, but not like this. Never like this. He’s _in love_ with Michael.

He can feel the blood rushing though his veins and his heart quicken with the knowledge and it scares him. Everything is about to change. He can taste it in the night air and he is scared. He is going to lose everything. He has worked so hard for so long to build what they have; him and Michael, the band, everything. He thinks he would happily lose it all just to have Mikey by his side.

There is something poetic to it, staring up at the sky and falling in love with your best friend. He hates it _~~(he loves it.)~~_

His phone dings.

**_From: A Giant Asshole (Mikey) 10:49 pm_ **

_R u ok?_

 

Calum really doesn’t know any more. He wonders if the word ok covers being in love with Mikey. He knows it doesn’t cover the dull thudding against his ribs and this terrible secret.

 

**_To: A Giant Asshole (Mikey) 10:52 pm_ **

_Idk anymore man._

 

His phone rings seconds later. He picks it up after the fourth ring just so he doesn’t seem so desperate.

“Hey,” Michael sounds tired, voice hoarse, like he’d just woken up. It steals Calum’s breath from his lungs and he relishes in the sound of his best friends voice.

“Hi,” he breathes. They sit for a moment in silence. It’s enough for him, to just listen to Michael breathing and know that he is there. It’s always been enough.

But the quiet can’t last forever, and eventually he has to say something. “You didn’t call,” it sounds like a plea, like everything he can’t say; and leaves his mouth sour.

“You didn’t ask me to,” he can hear movement on the line and waits; tries not to think about Mikey with bed hair, all soft and warm and home. There is a tension to his voice that shouldn’t be there and it makes Calum grimace.

“Cal-“

“I missed you.” It’s out of his mouth before he can think twice and steals his breath. Its weakness; something soft and venerable that he can’t afford to show.

Michael sounds fond when he replies “I missed you too, Cal-Pal.”

They’re silent again, an undercurrent of tension almost palpable. Calum hates that he created it, hates that now everything will change, that in this moment they are no longer _CalumandMichael_.

“What is going on Cal? What’s happened?”

It feels like there is nothing left to say but the truth. The night had drained all pretence and omissions from them and there is nothing left to say.

“I’m tiny,” even to Calum’s own ears he sounds small.

“Cal?”

“I’m tiny and weak and you’re not,” he can feel all his fears and insecurities building in his chest. He shouldn’t be scared, it’s Michael. The same Michael he has known all his life and somehow that makes him feel worse.  

“I-I don’t know what to do Mikey. It’s like I’m still fourteen and am nothing without you. You’re this huge fucking constellation and I’m just this tiny star, and one day I’m going to blink out of existence and you’ll hardly notice. I’m going to be left behind and I don’t think I can bear to see you leave.”

He holds his breath. He thinks that maybe this was unavoidable, a fixed point in an uncaring universe. “I love you. G-god Mikey I’m sorry.”

The line is silent and he figures that’s as good as it gets. He feels flushed and feverish. He may as well have just robbed himself of everything he cares about. His ribs ache.

When the silence gets too much he can’t help but let a small “Mikey?” escape him.

Michael just sighs.

“You know the thing about stars? They’re amazing. They collapse into themselves in their final breath and for a moment they outshine entire galaxies. They spew their guts across the universe and inside their bellies lie the keys to life itself. They fling it out across time and space in protest against the universe, forming gas clouds and solar systems. They push their atoms out into the void in a final cry of defiance; they create billions of stars with billions of planets to follow them. Every atom has a divine purpose written into them by their mother. Every inhale, every exhale, every heartbeat of every living creature on the planet happens because that is what a dying star wished. There would be no constellations without stars. There would be no Michael, or Calum without stars. There would be no us.

“You are made of stardust Calum, but they can’t even come close to shining as bright as you.”

He can feel the universe under his skin and it’s as if Michael’s words have set him on fire and its burn feels like hope. Calum wonders if this is what Mikey feels every day.

“Michael?”

“Yes Calum?”

“What do you mean by us?”

“I mean us Cal. You and me,” It sounds like a prayer, like a promise, like the thousands of other secrets they’ve whispered to each other during the night.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah.”

Calum smiles up into the night sky.

***

Weeks later, when he’s curled up under Michael’s arm and pushing his nose into his neck he asks when he learnt so much about stars.

“Stars are punk rock and google is great,” is the only answer he receives, and he huffs out a laugh and curls in closer to his constellation.

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find my tumblr [here](http://malumasfrick.tumblr.com/) come say hi.


End file.
